


As I See You

by KinFletcher



Series: As I See You [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinFletcher/pseuds/KinFletcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mild Civil War spoilers!</p><p>Set after Wanda's outburst at realizing she's not allowed to leave the Avengers compound. Vision recognizes how poorly she's doing and tries to restore their friendship. In the process their relationship grows stronger, and eventually Wanda finds herself giving Vision a course on 'How to Romance'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As I See You

**Author's Note:**

> My first MCU fic, I'm a bit nervous to post this. I ended up shipping Scarlet Vision HARD after CACW so I threw this together. I hope everyone likes it! I will likely be making bits of fluff for this pair for a long time to come ^u^  
> Here's the song Vision plays for Wanda:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hyAOYMUVDs

            Wanda admitted bitterly to herself that she didn’t lack for things to occupy herself within her disguised prison. She had her own room, access to any movie or show or book she wished to view, and, if she asked, anything she wanted to eat. But she wouldn’t ask, and found herself spending the greater part of the two days after her conversation with Vision watching the footage of Lagos over and over again, until her eyes hurt. As she sat on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest, she tried to imagine what Pietro would say to her, but only came up with Vision’s words.

            “I wish for them to see you as I see you…”

            Just what was she? As she stared at the television in the darkness of her room, she felt like a monster in a cage. And hadn’t she been just that for half her life?

            She wasn’t startled when she realized that tears were sliding down her cheeks. It wasn’t the first time in the last two days. She brushed them away, and as she did she thought of Pietro again, which only made her cry harder. _He_ would wipe her tears away in years past. _He_ would keep her stable, make her eat, help her sleep. It wasn’t often that she broke down with grief anymore, but as she struggled to hold herself together, she recognized that the part of her that had died with Pietro beginning to hiss and spark in her mind.

            There was a soft knock at her door.

            She jumped and held her breath, choking back the sobs that threatened to rake her body. She hastily rubbed her face with her sleeves.

            “Who is it?” she asked, louder than she had meant to.

            “It’s me,” said a familiar voice—Vision.

            “What do you want?” The anger helped her to calm her tears.

            “I would like to enter,” he said.

            Wanda rolled her eyes. He really needed to work on his inference skills, but she didn’t want to use her powers to try to pry open his synthetic brain right now. “What would you like to do once you ‘enter’?”

            There was a slight pause. “I would like to talk to you.”

            Frustrated, Wanda stomped to the door and threw it open. Vision’s expression caught her off-guard—it often did. She was so unused to the strange infinity in his eyes, the open innocence and earnestness of his face. He tilted his head slightly, looking just over her shoulder. “May I come in?” he asked quietly.

            “No,” said Wanda. She knew she was being petulant, but she didn’t care. “If I am to be kept here like an animal, I at least don’t need an owner coming in to clean my cage.”

            Vision’s eyes flicked to her face. She tried to avoid his gaze, knowing that looking at his eyes would only bring her guilt.

            “Look into my mind, Miss Maximoff,” he said. “I do not wish to own you, nor to cage you. You will know that.”

            Wanda looked angrily at the floor, folding her arms, but obeyed. Vision’s mind was always indescribable to enter; the utter non-humanness of him made the experience both serene and disconcerting at the same time. She pushed herself to the part which was at the forefront; the thoughts about her.

            _Concern. A yearning to keep a bond. A feeling of familiarity. Outcasts, both. A wish to understand_.

            She backed off and realized that she was crying again. Vision hesitated before putting a hand out and awkwardly touching her arm.

            “Er… some people like to be touched when they are sad,” he said slowly, “but some don’t. Which category do you fall under?”

            Wanda almost laughed. Her mind immediately flew to of all the times that Pietro had held her, hugged her, brushed her hair, taken her face and made her look at him to ground her in reality. She hadn’t been touched much since he had… gone. A pat on the shoulder from Steve or Clint, a quick hug from Natasha. Nothing more.

            “I don’t know anymore,” she said thickly.

            Vision hovered, his hand still on her arm. “Allow me to experiment,” he said, and after she said nothing, he stepped into the doorframe and carefully reached his arms around her. He placed one hand around her shoulders and the other on the back of her head, leaning her against his chest.

            She knew that it was calculated, but at the same time Wanda felt that it was sincere. It was something he must have seen in a movie or watched people do in the street, and by holding Wanda the same way he was demonstrating that he cared for her. They were both outcasts, yes, just as she and Pietro had been.

            Wanda closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat—strange that he should need a heart, but she supposed that his body was in most ways human. She wondered briefly if he could feel things the way that she might; after all, he didn’t even flinch at injuries. Was the feeling of holding someone pleasurable to him? She was tempted to look into his mind and find out.

            “Er, Miss Maximoff,” he said. “Would you be so kind as to tell me the results of the experiment?”

            Wanda started and let go, stepping back and wiping her nose. She’d gotten tears on his stupid cashmere sweater.

            “Fine, fine,” she said, waving her hand. “It was… fine.”

            He inclined his head. “May I come in?” he asked again.

            Wanda shrugged and turned, walking back into the room.

            When she didn’t hear Vision’s footsteps behind her, she said, “That means yes.”

            Vision stepped inside, shutting the door behind himself. Wanda sat on her bed, looking at the television screen. The building was bursting and falling in the explosion she had caused. Vision stood beside her, watching it for a moment.

            “You’ve watched nothing but this since it happened,” he said. “You feel guilty.”

            Wanda shrugged. “How else am I meant to feel?”

            “What happened cost lives, yes, but had the threat not been neutralized, the results could have been catastrophic. In a way, you saved many people. Perhaps you should feel… Triumphant.”

            Wanda watched the footage of people being carried from the building, bodies bloodied and broken, and then looked at her hands.

            “It doesn’t feel triumphant to know that you have directly caused the death of people who had families,” she said. “I would never… I never wanted to make anyone experience what I’ve gone through. Now I have, and the world lays the blame on me. And I deserve it.”

            Vision hovered awkwardly for a moment before simply kneeling on the floor next to her bed. He put his hand on her knee in a gesture she guessed he wasn’t aware was usually romantic.

            “You mustn’t let them tell you how to feel,” he insisted.

            Wanda wanted to say that he wasn’t human and he couldn’t know how she felt, but she knew that would be wrong. Whenever she reached into his mind she could tell that he felt emotions deeper than anyone she had ever seen; it was simply that his reactions to those emotions were not human.

            “You are not healthy,” he said, after she was quiet for a time. “You haven’t eaten. You’ve hardly slept.”

            “I have nightmares when I sleep,” said Wanda, waving her hand.

            “At least allow me to prepare some food for you,” he said.

            Wanda gave a wry smile. “If you always make food like you did two days ago, I would rather starve to death.”

            “Then I shall make canned soup,” said Vision. Wanda wanted to laugh at the sincerity in his voice. “If I follow the directions precisely that will be easy to make. Or, I can order take-out.”

            Wanda waved her hand. “Sure, whatever.”

            “Thank you, Miss Maximoff,” said Vision, before standing. He went to leave, hesitated, and then turned back.

            “Might I suggest you watch something else? Mister Rogers recommended ‘ _Harry Potter_ ’ to me as a staple of modern fiction.”

            Wanda smiled, somewhat softer this time. “I’ll try. Thanks, Viz.”

-

            She was halfway through _The Chamber of Secrets_ by the time Vision knocked on the door again. When she told him to come in, he entered with a stuffed plastic grocery bag. It smelled rich and spicy.

            “What took you so long?” she asked.

            “My first three attempts at canned soup were failures,” he said stoically. “I would have perfected it, only the microwave would no longer function, and the staff wouldn’t allow me to use theirs. So I ordered Greek food.”

            Wanda laughed. It felt like her first genuine laugh in weeks. Vision gave one of his odd little smiles and offered her a box of souvlaki.

            “I purchased a meal which should satisfy all of the human nutritional needs,” he said proudly, pulling a covered plate out of the bag; a Greek salad. Wanda shook her head as she chewed on the souvlaki. It felt good to be eating something, she admitted to herself, even if she didn’t often feel like it lately. Vision knelt by the side of her bed and ate with her. It was odd to see him eating, but she guessed that after all he could taste, and even if he didn’t need to, perhaps he liked eating.

-

            The next week went by like that; at every meal Vision would share a “perfectly balanced” meal with her, and they would watch bits and pieces of film. Slowly, Wanda started to feel better; his constant assurance that she wasn’t what everyone seemed think wouldn’t stick, but it was nice to hear. Their relationship went back to the balance it had had before Wanda’s breakdown. It was nice to feel like she had someone to relate to in this place.

            One day Vision brought her a thumb drive with lunch.

            “I’ve recently discovered the delights of classical piano,” he said, a little note of excitement in his voice. “Such a fascinating instrument—but more fascinating is how music is to the ears as food is to the palate. One never notices it so much when it is in the background of a film. You must try listening to it with no other distractions.”

            Wanda rested her head on her hand. “My brother and I didn’t hear much music growing up,” she said. “And not after we escaped HYDRA, really.”

            “I am sure you’ll enjoy these,” he continued, pulling up several hundred songs on her laptop and scrolling through the list. “My favorite thus far is most certainly Chopin’s Nocturne number 20 in C-sharp minor.”

            The words held absolutely no meaning to Wanda, but as the music began to play, she sat up to listen. It was different than the bits and pieces of other music she knew. Solo piano, intertwining melodies woven by a master, somehow expressing a complex tapestry of emotions with a single instrument. It somehow reminded her of her parents and the little meals they’d made at the end of every day, out of whatever they could buy the money they scraped together. They were bittersweet memories now.

            She began to wonder what Vision felt when he listened to the song. Curiously, she reached out a finger of her powers and poked into his mind.

            As always, she found herself staggering at the depth of his emotion and knowledge, but she crept towards the music. Suddenly she saw herself as he saw her, sitting on her bed in a long-sleeved jacket and sweatpants. The image was connected to the music; she felt that he saw her as complex as the melodies of the song, and as beautiful. She almost pulled away then, flattered, but she was still curious, delving a little deeper into his feelings for her. _A desire to protect. Yearning._ Again, _concern._ Suddenly, _wariness_.

            “Miss Maximoff, you do realize that since your powers involve neuro-electric interfacing, I am able to sense you in my mind?”

            Wanda snapped back, embarrassment sending numbness down her arms. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. She opened her mouth to say more, but Vision lifted his hand gently, casting his eyes toward her.

            “You cannot be blamed for your curiosity. I imagine that it’s second nature to you. But now I have my own curiosity; what did you see there?”

            He tilted his head slightly, expression serene. Wanda realized that she’d been holding her breath. “I saw—felt—what you do when you listen to this song,” she said. “And a little bit of how you feel about me.” She shrugged, trying to act as though it was nothing.

            Vision nodded. “Actually, what I meant was, what would you call the emotion I feel? I am still young,” he made a wry smile, “and have difficulty discerning my feelings in human terms.”

            Wanda looked at the uneaten sandwich on the edge of her bed, frowning in concentration as she tried to piece the little components again. She reached to his mind again, and when he nodded, she dipped herself in again, less carefully now, allowing herself to experience a little more.

            It felt like how she felt about Pietro.

            Only… there was less familiarity. Instead, there were notes of nervous anticipation, more curiosity, bemusement even, and a little sweep of heat that went from her heart down to her hips. She pulled out and realized that she was shaking.

            “I think…” she began, but stopped, unable to finish her sentence. She swallowed.

            “Is it love?” asked Vision, his brow furrowed. Wanda bunched her hands in her jacket and nodded. Just being in Vision’s mind had rattled her, but that sudden knowledge was too much. She had no idea how to react. She wanted to turn away and hide, but she imagined what Pietro would say, what Clint would say. You can’t run away from your fears. You have to face them.

            And she was so afraid of caring too much about anybody.

            “Thank you,” said Vision, interrupting her thoughts. “I wondered if it might be.” He stood as the song came to an end and another began. “I’ll leave these for you to listen to if you like,” he said, gesturing to the songs displayed on her computer.

            Wanda coughed, staring at him in surprise. “You’re going to leave after—after all that?”

            Vision tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”

            Wanda shook her head. “When you tell someone you love them, don’t you… do something about it? You hold their hand, or kiss them, or… something?”

            “I… was under the impression that people don’t like those sorts of things when they don’t return the sentiment.”

            Wanda choked back a laugh. “You didn’t ask me if I return the sentiment!”

            Vision frowned, looking at her contemplatively. “I apologize, Miss Maximoff. Do you?”

            Wanda closed her mouth, sobering. She allowed herself to meet his eyes. Every part of her screamed that it was dangerous, that she couldn’t afford to care about anyone because she would lose them, that she had barely any more experience than he did in relationships. And yet her heart thrummed and her stomach turned to butterflies, and she knew that it wasn’t all fear.

            “I don’t know,” she said. “We… experiment?”

            Vision cocked an eyebrow. It was the first time she felt like she’d ever seen him look surprised. “Do you mean ‘holding hands and kissing or something’?” he asked.

            Wanda laughed nervously. “Something like that, yes.”

            “Right now?”

            “ _Yes_ , now,” said Wanda, laughing more sincerely now at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

            Vision approached her and she moved aside to make room for him to sit on her bed. He set the plate with the sandwich on the table and then sat down, feet on the floor, hands in his lap. An awkward silence fell for a while. Wanda chewed on her lip.

            “I apologize,” he said, turning his head slightly but not looking at her. “I may require some instruction in these matters.”

            “Er… first come closer and face me,” said Wanda, her heart in her throat. Vision obeyed, mimicking her cross-legged position. Wanda reached over and took his right hand. She had to pry his fingers apart to lace her fingers with his, and by the time she had, she realized that she was wearing a stupid smile on her face.

            “Try to relax,” she said.

            Vision looked perturbed and his shoulders dropped a little. “I didn’t even realize that I was so tense. My apologies, Miss… er… Wanda. My apologies, Wanda.”

            Wanda liked the way her name sounded with his accent. She hesitated for a moment and then brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed it.

            Vision, much to her amusement, repeated her motion. His lips were surprisingly warm.

            “Do you feel that?” she asked him curiously, voicing the question she’d had for days now.

            “Yes. It is… an unusual feeling,” said Vision. “You know, I haven’t quite understood why kissing is nearly universally a romantic gesture, but I think I see now. There are so many nerves and muscles in the lips that both kissing and being kissed is quite unlike other forms of touch.”

            Wanda held back a giggle, nodding instead at his explanation. She was slowly starting to realize that that, in a way, Vision’s lack of understanding of human romance and culture made the idea of a relationship with him not only more entertaining, but more exciting.

            She scooted closer to him and leaned forward, hesitating a little before kissing his cheek. She realized with a pang that she had never kissed anyone’s cheek since Pietro’s death. She tried to focus instead on the strange sensation of his vibranium-laced skin, warm and yielding but perfectly smooth. Vision tipped his head slightly to lean into her kiss, and when she drew back his eyes were closed.

            “You have… very agreeable lips,” he said.

            Wanda blushed and chuckled at his wording. He looked at her before reaching up and touching her flushed cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Are you embarrassed?” he asked.

            Wanda paused, still smiling. “People get complimented, and they’re embarrassed. I never wondered why.”

            She waited for Vision to postulate on the matter, but instead he repeated her action again, leaning forward and planting his lips on her cheek. His free hand gripped her shoulder in a way she was sure he didn’t realize was far too tight. She fought the urge to laugh. The angry, fearful little parts of her began to recede as she realized that she felt happier than she had in a very long time. She hadn’t felt this _silly_ since Pietro had been around to joke with her.

            “You have to move your lips a little,” she said. “There are so many muscles, see? Like you said.” She demonstrated again. Afterward, he tried once more, and this time it was less like an android was kissing her and more like a man. A little spark of delight went up the back of her head. He drew back and she pressed her lips together, avoiding his eyes.

            “Are you… enjoying yourself?” he asked. “How is the experiment faring?”

            “Very well,” said Wanda, and felt herself smiling.

            Vision smiled a little as well. “I am happy,” he said. She had the feeling that wasn’t something he said very often.

            “I’m going to kiss you on the lips,” said Wanda. “I know you’re metal and synthetic, but your mind is like a human—your spirit, yes?”

            Vision cocked his head and then nodded. “I think that is an accurate assessment, yes.”

            “So, when I kiss you, can you try to just do what your human part wants to do? I will stop you if it’s wrong, but I think in love everybody is different, what they like, so there isn’t really a right or wrong you can... quantify. For me, I don’t know, I never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend or… anything.”

            Vision nodded after a moment.

            “All right,” said Wanda, more to herself than to him. Then, she cupped his face in her hands, looked for one brief moment into his eyes, and tilted her head to kiss him.

            Once her heart had calmed enough for sensation to return to her body, Wanda felt Vision’s hands move to rest on her waist, hesitant. His lips moved with a softness she could not have expected from anything vibranium. A steadfast little corner of her mind was glimmering now; the part that had not been happy since Pietro died, and she felt warm and peaceful somewhere beneath her trembling nerves.

            Slowly, Vision seemed to let go as she had asked him to, giving in to instincts that were buried in his subconscious. He broke their kiss only to turn his head another way and kiss her again, and his hands at her waist pulled her closer to him. She caught the fabric of his shirt and gasped quietly. She’d never been held this way before. He paused to let out a shuddering breath.

            “I… love you,” he whispered against her lips. He drew back. “Yes, I love you, Wanda.”

            Wanda nodded, nerves all afire. She sat back, holding her hand over her mouth to cover her smile.

            “I am sorry if that wasn’t up to your satisfaction,” said Vision, placing his hands in his lap again and straightening his back. “It is… difficult… for me.”

            Wanda’s heart dropped. “What do you mean?”

            Vision’s brow furrowed. “I was born out of power and strength and machinery. The understanding that I have of how to be human has only been learned through practice and study. I do feel emotions, yes, I feel happiness and sadness and love, but I’m not well-versed on how to act on most of them. I worry that simply using what my databases have stored to react in order to what I feel wouldn’t be true to the individual I would like to become, nor fair to you.” He hesitated, and took one of her hands. “What I am saying is that I would like to learn and practice more so that it will become a natural part of me instead of mimicry. Is that all right, Wanda?”

            Wanda let out a breathless laugh. “Yes,” she said, “Yes, that’s all right. And, just for your information…” she took his hands and kissed them again, “What you were doing just now _was_ ‘up to my satisfaction’.”

            Vision smiled, and for the first time Wanda thought she saw it reach his eyes.

            “Teach me more?” he asked.

            She laughed and hit him lightly. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Right now I’m hungry. I never got to eat that ‘perfectly balanced’ sandwich you brought me.”

           

**Author's Note:**

> I made a little sequel for this! You can read it over here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6812608


End file.
